


Even If It Costs Me My Life (I Won't Stop Loving You)

by PlayingTheGameOfThrones



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: F/M, Fluffy Angst, or is it angsty fluff?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-03
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-10 05:33:27
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12905163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PlayingTheGameOfThrones/pseuds/PlayingTheGameOfThrones
Summary: He always brings her flowers before he leaves.





	Even If It Costs Me My Life (I Won't Stop Loving You)

**1917**

Before he leaves her, he brings her a bouquet of marigolds. She always sees him coming, walking down the wide cobblestone street to their front door, the marigolds a bright orange cloud in his hands, her favorite color.

Imelda sees him coming now from the window beside their front door, hears his knock, his cautious call of "Imelda? _Mi amor_?" She wonders if she should even answer the door. She knows what he's going to say. _Imelda, mi amor, Ernesto and I are so close to achieving our dream. But he thinks one more tour will do the trick. I'm sorry, amor de mi vida._

Imelda sighs, resting her forehead against the door and letting a hand flutter absentmindedly to her stomach. She hadn't been sure enough of the new life inside her to tell her husband, but now that he's determined to leave her again, she might just have a reason for him to stay. If she isn't enough for her husband anymore, maybe a child will be.

"Imelda?" Her husband's voice startles her. "I know you're there."

Imelda rolls her eyes and opens the door. "Hector," she deadpans, her body blocking the entrance to their home.

"Imelda!" Hector smiles nervously. He can tell by the set of Imelda's jaw and her furrowed brow that she already knows what he is going to say. It is his own fault, the marigolds are a dead giveaway. But they are Imelda's favorite flower. He hates leaving her, though it is necessary for the music, and he can't bear the thought of leaving her with nothing in return, even if what he leaves her with is something as small and insignificant as a bouquet of marigolds. "May I come in?"

Imelda raises an eyebrow. "Why? Why should I let you in, Hector? You're just going to leave me again."

" _Mi amor_ , you must understand–"

"Oh, must I?"

"You used to love the music as much as me. What changed?"

Imelda feels her hand drifting down to her stomach and stops herself halfway, instead drawing her hand up and cupping her husband's face. Hector closes his eyes and sighs, leaning into her gentle touch. "I found something I loved more." She lets her hand drop back to her side, and Hector opens his eyes quizzically, already missing her touch. "I thought you had, too." She turns away, and Hector follows her into their home.

"Come with me, Imelda," Hector pleads. "It's not the same without you. Ernesto, he..." But Hector does not finish his sentence.

"I..." For a moment, Imelda considers it. She remembers a time when she would have jumped at the chance to play their music, to sing their songs for the world. But since their marriage – and since she began to suspect she was with child – the music, the dream, didn't matter as much as it once had. Sure, she loves to hear her husband play the guitar she had had made for him so many years ago now and to sing along to the music he played, but it wouldn't provide the money a family of three – or more, hopefully, one day – would need. She is happy here in Santa Cecilia, with her home and her husband and a child on the way. "I can't, Hector."

"But why, Imelda? Why?" Hector follows Imelda into their bedroom and sets the bouquet of marigolds on the table beside their bed.

"Hector..." Imelda shakes her head and sits on the edge of their bed. Hector joins her, gathering her hands in his own.

"Tell me why, Imelda." His eyes search her face for answers.

"We're going to have a baby, Hector."

Hector raises his eyebrows, his eyes wide with shock. "A...a baby?"

Imelda feels a smile crawling over her face. "Yes. Yes, Hector. We're going to have a baby."

Hector smiles, the single dimple in his cheek appearing and endearing him to her even more. "Are you sure?"

"I'm sure, Hector. We're going to be a family."

Hector takes Imelda's face in his hands and kisses her softly. "I'll tell Ernesto right away. I'm not leaving you now, Imelda. Not anytime soon. Not when you need me."

Imelda smiles after him as he dashes off to speak with Ernesto. But she feels her smile fade when her eyes fall on the bouquet of marigolds on the table beside her. It is only a matter of time until the music – and Ernesto – calls him back. And she's not certain how long Hector can resist them.

Imelda stands up, grabs the bouquet in her hands, and throws it out the window, bright orange petals falling in a circle at her feet.


End file.
